Gregor and the Rise of the Peacemaker
by Jack Cross
Summary: It's been nearly seven years since Gregor had been to the Underland, and a lot has changed in seven years. The Overland is in chaos, and Gregor and a friend decide it's time to make the journey once again. But war has once again taken the Underland in it's grasp. Amidst all the insanity, another one of Sandwich's Prophecies is becoming painfully clear: The Peacemaker.


**So a friend has begged and begged me to do this, and now here I am uploading it. **

**Everything belongs to the author and not me. **

**Please review and let me know what you think. **

A heavy rain and fog bore down on the Hudson River Valley. At the base of a hill, not far north of Yonkers lay a set of exposed bedrock lay covered in vines. From a crack hidden beneath the vines came a hand, like that of a zombie clawing out of it's grave. A young man exploded from the undergrowth, gasping either for fresh air or the fact that his skin was exposed to the cold night air.

His clothes were in rags and his skin and short black hair were soaking wet. As he stood, his legs wobbled a bit. On his right cheek, a bright red cut either from the tip of a sword of the slice of a claw, intersected with a faded scar that ran from his nose to his jaw to form an X. As he caught his breath, he noticed the lights of a military convoy below him.

Half stumbling, half running down the hill, he began to make his way toward the road, toward New York, and toward his revenge.

_Three Weeks Earlier_

The morning fog was the thickest Gregor had seen in years, so bad that a majority of the Manhattan skyline was obscure. For a moment he paused in the fluid motion of his rowing to look up at his home city. He hadn't seen New York in seven years, since his family had moved to Virginia following his grandmother's death.

"Well there it is," his friend Jason Miles muttered, having stopped in his rowing as well. The two of them were sitting in a small rubber raft in the middle of the Hudson River, about halfway between the New Jersey shoreline and Manhattan Island.

Gregor had met Jason shortly after moving to Virginia, both of them being new students at their school. Jason had come from some state in the heartland and was what Gregor's dad called a hardcore boy scout. It seemed as if he was prepared for everything, but that changed a few months ago when the Pulse had happened.

An unknown group, possibly North Korean, Iranian, Russian, Chinese, or all of these combined set off two nuclear warheads. The first was detonated several miles above the Kansas prairie, blanketing the country in an electromagnetic pulse that fried everything from cars to cell phones. The second blast had been set off in lower Manhattan. But the bomb was crudely made, and although a majority of the city survived unharmed and radiation free, the air on the island was unbreathable.

The resulting chaos caused by these two bombs convinced Gregor that it was time to return to the Underland. But his mother refused to abandon their new lives and return to that place. So he had remained in Virginia, unable to abandon his family. But as time past, things began to get worse. Food was running out, and the possibility of bandit raids was growing by the day.

Jason, who had been able to get in touch with his relatives in the heartland made arrangements to transport Gregor's sisters out west, to an area that had more food. Both Gregor's parents and Gregor himself stayed behind, waiting for the day when they could head west as well.

Fate it seemed had other ideas.

Three days before they were to begin the journey west, a bandit group had attacked their small town. Both of Gregor's parents had been killed in the raid, and now he was alone with Jason. Together, the two had wandered their way north, fighting off bandits and other dangers that now roamed the countryside.

It was only near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania that Gregor had finally told Jason of the Underland. Jason had, of course, not believed him at first. But Gregor had shown him the scars on his chest from his battle with the Bane, on his legs from the veins, and Ares' claw. When he had learned of the Underland and the possibility of safety and civilization, Jason had changed their course for New York.

"Easy and quiet now, we don't want to alert any Army patrols," Jason said as they inched their boat toward a dock. Unlike what Gregor had remembered, the city was almost dead silent. Not long after the bomb had gone off in lower Manhattan the Army and National Guard had evacuated the entire city and sealed off the island. Anyone left behind had either adapted, or choked to death on the poison air.

"It's not far from here. If we are lucky the air currents will be strong and we won't have to wait," Gregor said, his voice distorted by the gas mask he wore.

"We'll have to move quickly, and hopefully we won't run into any scavengers along the way," Jason replied as he raised an AR 15, watching the buildings before them with caution. Gregor took what equipment they had with them, all loaded into a pair of rucksacks. He handed one of the packs to Jason, who quickly slung it over his shoulder.

The two took off, sticking to the shadows as they slunk deeper into the dead city. Gregor quickly took the lead as he knew the city far better then Jason did. They twisted and turned, making their way through the back allies and side streets in case they ran into a military patrol or worse yet, a scavenger party.

Scavengers in the city were notoriously dangerous when it came to encountering other people. They were incredibly territorial, and attacked anyone who dared set foot on their section of ground. Sure the two of them had plenty of experience from being on the road for so long, but the odds were still so highly stacked against them when it came to a city full of desperate former gang members, murders, and thieves.

"That's it, just across the street," Gregor said as they came to a halt at the exit of an ally. Across from them sat Gregor's old apartment building. The building looked like it had seen better days. Several windows were broken and shot out, the front doors looked like they had either been busted down or blown off of their hinges. A couple of stalled cars rested on the street between them and the doors. As Gregor began to step out onto the street, a burst of gunfire rang out. His rager senses kicked in, allowing him to dive behind the nearest car as the window shattered.

"Shit!" Jason pressed himself against the ally wall and tried to get a glimpse at the shooter. There, just up the block stood a Hispanic man with a TEC 9. He had just emptied his clip at the car Gregor was hiding behind as was fumbling to reload. In a smooth, trained manner, Jason popped around the corner and fired two shots at the shooter before ducking back again. The bullets tore through the man's chest, sending him sprawling over the street.

"Move!" he shouted as he saw his work. Gregor wasted no time, springing up into a running position just like he had done during track all those years ago. In a flash, he was off, sprinting toward the front doors. The air filled with the sounds of gunfire again as the man's friends shot at him and Jason shot back, providing cover fire to the best of his ability.

With a yell, he dove through the doors and sprawled out on the floor, amazingly unharmed. Jason quickly loaded a new magazine and cocked the rifle again. They only had one rifle, and even with his rager skills Gregor was still a lousy shot with a pistol. He was going to have to do this on his own. Taking a few quick breaths, Jason dashed out of his hiding place, squeezing the trigger on his rifle over and over again as he ran, firing blindly at the other shooters. Like a baseball player sliding into home plate, Jason slid through the doors and across the floor.

"Where's the entrance at?" he asked as he quickly swapped out for another magazine.

"Laundry Room, one floor down," Gregor replied, his breaths coming in deep heaves. Although he was technically a veteran when it came to war, getting shot at was still a relatively new thing to him.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Jason asked, cocking the AR for added effect. In an instant the two were on their feet again and running toward the stairs. Gregor took the lead again with Jason hot on his heels. They took the stairs as quickly as they could without falling, practically sliding down the banister as they went.

Like he had done in his dreams for the past seven years, Gregor kicked the door to the laundry room open with as much force as he could muster. The old metal door violently swung open and reverberated off of the wall with a bang, but neither one of them cared. As Gregor made his way toward the grate, Jason quickly closed the door again and set to sliding a washing machine in front of it.

"How we doin'? Jason asked, the strain of pushing the heavy machine evident in his voice.

"Almost got it," Gregor replied, using a hunting knife like a screw driver to take the bolts out of the grate.

"We ain't got time for that, they'll tear this building apart looking for us."

"I'm going as fast as I can!" At that moment the grate popped loose and Gregor hungrily tore the metal away from the hole, flinging it across the room. Seven years of waiting, and now he was only a few feet away. White mist poured from the dark hole like someone had hidden a smoke machine in the wall.

"We're in luck, the currents are strong today."

"Then you won't mind if I do this." Jason grabbed Gregor by the back of his shirt collar and jeans before throwing him through the hole. In a flash, he was going through the hole himself, never once pausing to consider just what waited for him at the bottom.

After all of his adventures, and all of his time spent in the Underland riding Ares, Gregor still had not gotten use to the feeling of falling. Somewhere overhead, Jason emitted a cry of some sort, although he was unclear whether it was a whoop of joy or a scream of terror. Using his echolocation, he could pierce the dark and see just how far below the floor was beneath them.

Despite his mother's attempt at forcing a normal life on their family, Gregor had never once given up on practicing his echolocation. The War and his battle with the Bane had taught him the importance of the skill. Sure she had made him stop clicking within a few months of their return, but by that point his skill had increased to the point that simply breathing could let him see.

Right now, he was thankful he had not listened to his mothers commands. The floor was fast approaching, allowing him to be ready to land. He touched down with the grace of a bird on the wind, but Jason's landing was rougher by far. Not having echolocation, he had not realized where the floor was until he had belly flopped on the cold stone.

"You alright, Jason?" Gregor asked as he smothered a laugh. If it wasn't for his need of him, Gregor was pretty sure that Jason would have shot him on the spot. He didn't care though, good fun was good fun between the two friends.

Jason pushed himself off of the floor and rubbed his chest while Gregor set to retrieving the rucksacks. After a moment of pitch darkness, a pale LED light pierced the black. Jason had turned on a small flashlight he kept attached to his rifle. Reaching up, he hesitantly pulled his gas mask up slightly and sniffed the air.

"It's clean," he said with surprise before he tore the mask off completely.

"The currents probably keep the bad air from coming down here," Gregor said as he removed his own mask. They had been wearing the masks since the Jersey Shore of the Hudson, and had longed for a moment to breathe clean air again since.

"How far is this place we're going?" Jason asked. Gregor pointed down a nearby tunnel entrance.

"Three, maybe four miles that way. We have to hurry before something catches our sent."

"Rats right?" Gregor had told him of the Underland of course, but he hadn't fully explained what was down here. He knew of the humans, and the bats because of Ares' claw, and the Rats because of the scars on Gregor's chest. But beyond that, Jason had no idea what other creatures there were.

"Among other things." With that ominous answer, he led the way toward Regalia. For almost an hour they walked in silence, the only light source coming from the flashlight on the rifle. He could tell that Jason was bursting with questions, but he had yet to ask any.

"So who is she?" Jason asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Who?"

"Don't play me for a fool, Gregor. This Luxa girl, who is she?" Gregor remained silent for a long time as he pondered how best to answer the question. He had only told Jason enough about the Underland to convince him of it's existence. Luxa had only been mentioned in passing during his descriptions.

"She's the Queen of Regalia. We were good friends the last time I was down here."

"Judging by the look on your face when you talk about her, I'd say she was more then a friend."

"Yeah, she was," Gregor said, his pace picking up a bit.

"So is she hot?"

"Jason!"

"Hey, it's an honest question, is she pretty or not?" Gregor fell silent again and came to a halt. Before them lay the moth covered entrance to the Arena.

"She's gorgeous. But if you don't believe me you'll see for yourself here soon" With that, Gregor stepped through the shroud of moths and vanished. Jason stood still for a moment, ignoring the insects that swarmed nearby. He looked back in the direction they had come from. After a year of being on the road, Jason trusted Gregor with his life. Taking one more step would change his life forever, and he knew it. The choice was clear: stay down here and start a new life, or return to the surface and hope that things stabilized.

"As if it's a choice," he muttered to himself before he stepped through the moths and into the bright, blinding light of the Arena.


End file.
